little things

It’s in the blood.

| Mairead

(There’s a lot of iron in Guinness)

About once a month a group of us meet to play poker. It’s a friendly game, with offspring included if they’re available. The smallest number required to play is five and the most has been ten. Everyone puts in five euros and gets a stack of chips (playing chips not eating chips…)

(A cup of tea makes everything better)

Sometimes there’s nice food, sometimes there’s whatever’s in the kitchen. The food’s not important.  But the most consistent and important thing on poker night is the laughter. We laugh a lot… at anything. Could be we laugh at the cards we’ve been dealt. Could be we laugh at one person trying to pretend she has bad cards…… or someone else pretending he has good cards. Or it could be we laugh just knowing that we’re okay in this group, there’s nothing to do and there’s no way we have to be….. It’s just fun.

(Hang onto your money)

I went to a burial today. My aunt’s brother. I didn’t know the man but he’s my aunt’s second brother to be buried in the last two months so I went to see her. She lives in the same house as my Dad and my Granny used to live. As children my brother and I were taken there to visit our Granny and see all our cousins. Today I travelled roads I had traveled as a child and I felt like a six-year-old. When I got out of the car, there were my cousins again and we were laughing and joking like we did as children.

(Nice food today)

As well as tears, there’s always lots of laughter at funerals……  like the poker there’s nothing to do and no way you have to be. Just turn up and be… with others who know you’re okay. You are family… even if you are a bit weird and don’t quite fit in with the rest of them (oh, maybe that’s just me!).

(Passing on traditions)

At the graveyard it rained and there were hailstones (yes June in Ireland is full of surprises) but that’s ok because it’s good luck! So I was dripping wet as I left to walk to the car and almost bumped into a woman. She was saying to me, “I have to meet this woman”. I smiled, presuming she was talking about another woman, but she went on to say, “You’re Peter’s daughter, aren’t you, I had to come and tell you, Peter played poker in my house every week when he was young.” So I laughed, hugged and asked Elizabeth her name and thanked her for making my day.

Ok Dad, got the message – I’ll keep playing the poker!

Do something that makes you laugh today, Mairead.

Just do it.

| Mairead

(Irish sky – we have the best clouds!)

We travelled for 4,500 kilometers in wind and rain and sun. We were coughed on and sneezed near, and we were never ill. But we’re home now and we have the ‘flu…..

(French sky)

So my thinking is not very clear today and that may lead to this post not being very clear but I have hope! It’s about trying. We use that word all the time but do we really know what we’re saying?

(More French sky)

Today I’m trying to write my blog. Trying involves a lot of effort. There’s a lot of gazing out at the cloudy blue sky. There’s a lot of thoughts about all the other things I should be doing at the same time. There’s a lot of re-writing and deleting. It’s very hard work. Very serious work. Do you realise what work is involved in this blog writing? Oh, its tough. It’s not much fun either and I doubt if it’s fun to read…..

(Spanish sky)

Usually, I don’t try to write my blog. Usually, I just write my blog. There’s no effort. I hardly look up. Once I start I couldn’t care less about what else needs to be done. I hardly change a thing (except spellings, I still manage to mis-spell!). It’s very easy. It’s not serious, it’s funny in my tummy! There’s no work involved. It’s not tough, it’s fun to do and maybe it’s even fun to read……

(Irish sky)

It’s so much easier when I don’t try…… and instead just do it…… Trying is no fun, I like fun.

Was that clear? Mairead.

PS I have set aside a large inbox area in my email for correspondence relating to recipes from you…. but so far there’s only one recipe in there (thank you Madge, we will be eating Chicken in White Wine and Mushroom Sauce tonight and thinking happy thoughts about you). I’m guessing you might be trying to get around to sending me one…. stop trying! I need your recipes, now. Thank you.

Help me to make time….

| Mairead

(Beautiful things in my mother’s house)

I have a request, so listen up!

If I’m going to continue showing you how possible it is to “make” time to do the things you want to do, then I’m going to need a little help. In a particular area – dinner! I’ll be specific (it’s always useful to be specific when you’re considering (or asking for) what you want)…….. I want recipes.

(My brother cooks Irish lunch)

In order to make time to do the things you want to do, something’s gotta give! Something that you give time to now will need to give up it’s time. Or, if it’s an essential task, at least give up some of its time. And that’s where you’ll need to be creative. So I’m going to start by being creative with dinner! I’m creating ways to allow dinner to give up some of its time. To be clear, I’m quite happy to keep the time I spend eating the dinner, it’s the preparation time I want back.

(Time to eat)

So…

… I need recipes. Very particular recipes: To feed four people. With a preparation time of ten minutes, maybe I could stretch to fifteen minutes but… no longer than that. Where a pot, dish, saucepan or receptacle containing some food goes into an oven and when the timer goes off, we eat. I don’t care how long the timer takes, because while it counts down and the dinner cooks I’ll be writing 🙂 I’m happy to make a salad to go with the dinner and I think I could probably do that in five minutes.

(The beautiful rain on Sunday)

Also, I like fish but one of the four people to be fed doesn’t…. He could go without, but I like him…. So, it would be a bonus if you know a great fish recipe (I’m thinking of the Cod in red pepper sauce that we got at Rosa’s Casa Rural near San Sebastian) where the fish looks like meat…. (any meat would do, but I’m thinking chicken already looks a bit like fish???) but that would just be a bonus, not essential.

(Unhealthy breakfast today)

Please, please send me your favourite, ten minute prep, in a pot, into the oven, onto the table recipe. One that you’ve tried and it works. (When I’ve sorted dinner I’m going onto housework next, so start thinking about that.)

Bon appétit, Mairead.

Minding your own business

| Mairead

(Coffee and a cook book – heaven)

It’s Saturday. Denis and I went on our Saturday date this morning. Well, not exactly morning as it was nearly one o clock by the time we left . Because we had a visit from our new “drain man”, but that’s another story. Although he will be part of this story.

Anyway, we went to Dun Laoghaire, for those who don’t know it, it’s a big town, with a long pier that the people of south Dublin and Wicklow like to walk. It also has a lot of shops, small and big. It’s on the Dart (Dublin Area Rapid Transit) train line and it also has a ferry port.

While we were there we had coffee, and wandered into and out of a few shops. We were in a small outdoor and sports shop, looking at crocs shoes when we heard a conversation between the shop assistant and a customer. The customer (male) was saying, ” I’m looking for a pair of comfortable shoes for walking about in, would you have something like that?” And the assistant (male) said “well…we have one make, but they’re not very good.” Needless to say the customer didn’t buy them. He didn’t even get to see them!

We were wondering about the possibility that there might be a room full of “not very good” walking shoes in the back of the shop. Something was niggling me.

And then we went into the pen shop. It’s a very small shop on the top floor of the shopping center. It only sells pens… and inks, biros, calculators and there might be other things too. Something you may not know about Denis is he loves pens. Not just any pens. Very particular pens. Before he buys one he has to try them out and compare them. They have to feel “right”. They have to be quiet (I kid you not, one he tried today, was too “noisy”…..) So we enter the shop and the assistant jumps up to greet us. He looks happy to see us. He’s also happy to bring out lots and lots of pens for Denis to try – lots.

By the time Denis makes a choice, the assistant has his phone number. So that he can give him a call when a pen Denis mentioned gets delivered. At this stage I’m starting to think I might need a pen too! What a nice experience.

(All gone)

And that’s when the niggling unfolded.

The man in the pen shop wasn’t an assistant, he was the owner. When you’re the owner of your business your intention is to thrive and (in this economic climate) to survive and you do what’s necessary, in fact you’re HAPPY to do what’s necessary. When you’re the assistant your intention is a bit different. It might be to keep your job, or to just get through your day. But you’re probably not emotionally or financially invested in the success of the business.

My new “drain man” runs his own business. He spent time talking to me on the phone, before any money changed hands. He works on Saturdays. He answers his own phone. He’s invested. I had a good experience. I’ll be recommending him.

And that led me to the thought, there have been times in my life when I just want to get through the day. How would it be different if my intention was to thrive during that day, and every day in my life? To be the owner of my own day, my own life…. And I bet that it would affect the people who meet me, my family, my friends. Maybe they would have a nice experience too.

Mind your own business, Mairead

Success Teams Blog

| Mairead

(Continued from yesterday… Five Lives.) The kind of story I want to be in is one where every day I’m involved in something that lifts my heart.

You see, down in the everyday “stuff” of life it’s easy to get stuck and think you’re not worthy or that your ideas are useless or that you’ll make do with a life you find boring. Because…. it takes a lot of courage to do the things that you love, to share the ideas that you have, to go for the exciting (to you) things. It takes courage to lift your voice up and say “this is what I want.” It takes courage to wonder “what do I want?”

Fortunately, it doesn’t take much courage to lift your heart. It lifts on its own every time you are involved in something you love….. in sport, art, writing, walking, cooking, riding your motorbike (he, he)…. what is it for you?

(Nice cup of tea)

When your heart is lifting….. then you can make up a new story, of a new life.

When I finished the Wishcraft book and wanted more I searched the internet and found that Barbara Sher had devised Success Teams. A team doing the exercises in order to find out what you wanted and then encouraging you to go for it….. But there wasn’t one in Ireland.

I’d have to set it up in Ireland.

Oh, my goodness the FEAR……I’m not worthy, this is a terrible idea, I’ll make do with reading the book again. But it wouldn’t go away. So bit by bit I started telling people and something about my passion for the idea grabbed them too.

They joined me in my story and now we’ve completed the eight weeks course.  Each of us has our own project to lift our hearts. Each one of us is at a different stage. Each one of us feels the fear from time to time and then we meet and the team keeps us going. Going towards what we want.

And the amazing thing to me is…. it’s not about what we want at all…. it’s all about the journey towards it.

Thank you, (in alphabetical order, women!) Ashleigh, Frieda, Julie, Marion, and Molly – my team mates, for lifting my heart when I couldn’t! And now I’m going to do it again.

(For the Wicklow team who played today – Burn the Boats but Keep the Passion!)

Want to build a team to lift your heart when you can’t? Send me an email (mairead@hennessynet.com) or ring (086 827 2332) and get on the next team!

To your soaring heart from mine, Mairead.

Five Lives

| Mairead

(Bren’s Birthday Sweet Pea)

So, yesterday (Come on Wicklow) I was giving an example of one of the exercises in Barbara Sher’s Book, Wishcraft. It’s called….Five Lives. In it you imagine you have five lives and what would you do with each one? So, she helps you by saying if you could be YOU five times and explore a different talent or interest or lifestyle, what would they be?

(My patchwork tiled table – hasn’t fared well in the cold and wet winter, it needs some help)

Well…. I was off in dreamland with that one. But if that wasn’t enough she goes on to tell me (in the book, I’ve never met her!) what Gene, a 47-year-old mortgage banker, wrote for his five lives.

Gene’s Five Lives: 1. Head of Department of Housing and Urban Development. 2. A fishing guide. 3. A novelist. 4. A radio announcer for major league baseball (Gene is probably American…..). And already I start to realise, anything goes – Gene didn’t even have five lives on his list and he made it into the book! Gene is picking crazy things…… and that’s ok too…..

(Tea and courgette plants at Laura’s house)

And that’s what comes out again and again – it’s your story. YOUR LIFE is your story to make up as you go along. You can choose how the story goes. And the exercises help to find out what kind of story you want to be in….

(Summer’s here!)

You might want to try the exercise for yourself? Or not? Either way I’ll continue the story tomorrow.

What’s the story? (A form of greeting in Cork…. or is it Tipperary?) Mairead.

The story of Zac and the pooh.

| Mairead

During December I spent some time with my nine year-old niece, who seems to attract trouble, skillfully! She has inspired me to write the following story. (By the way, my sister, her Mum, discovered that she had started to re-write the story using a new spelling for the stuff that was attracted to Zac. She guessed adults might not like the word poo….. I respect my neice’s wisdom so I have changed the spelling in the following version.)

Story for Caoimhe.

Once upon a time there was a little boy who had an unusual skin problem, pooh of all kinds was attracted to him. Wherever he went pooh flew to him like iron filings to a magnet. His Mum and Dad and his Granny cleaned off this pooh so that the boy could walk among the people of the village without being laughed at or shunned. But the boy hated this cleaning. He shouted and raged against his parents and Granny. You see he didn’t know that he was constantly covered in pooh and he didn’t smell it. One day he was so angry (about the cleaning) that he ran out into the garden and screamed and screamed. When he finally got tired of screaming he stopped and immediately heard a quiet voice whisper,

“Zac, would you like to see my magic mirror?”

Over by the compost heap stood a little fairy girl and in her hand was a tiny little mirror. The little boy was astonished because he had never seen a fairy before and he didn’t realise fairy’s could speak.

“Yes, please”, he whispered.

So the fairy girl held up the mirror in her two hands and Zac looked in, and for the first time he saw that he was covered in pooh. He jumped back in fright and landed in a patch of carrots, on his bum. He was very surprised and nearly missed what the fairy girl said next.

“Now Zac, look as I turn the mirror over.”

And he looked and what he saw was so… so…. so…. beautiful and so handsome and so lovely that he smiled – a very big smile. And when he smiled that very big smile he saw himself in the mirror shining like a bright light for everyone to see and admire. Then the fairy girl whispered,

“Zac, its time to let go of the pooh.”

But the little boy didn’t know how to do that so the fairy girl gave him instructions:

“First, every day for the next 21 days while your Mum and Dad and Granny clean off the pooh you have to stand very still. Second, after the 21 days are up, come out here and meet me again and I will give you my magic mirror and further instructions.”

Zac did exactly as he was told and 21 days later returned to the spot by the compost heap where the fairy girl was waiting. She held up the mirror and he saw how gorgeous he was and when the mirror was turned over he saw that he was gorgeous on that side too.

“How come I look so great on both sides, now?”, he asked…. and the fairy girl replied, “Because now, Zac, you are as beautiful on the outside as you always were on the inside.”

And the fairy girl gave Zac the mirror and told him to check from time to time how he was doing on the outside, but to always know that, “you are beautiful, radiant, and shining always, always, always on the inside, where it matters.”

From that day on only small bits of pooh clung to Zac and when he looked in the mirror and realised they were there, he stood still and cleaned them off, himself. But always, always when he looked at the other side of the mirror he was beautiful, handsome, gorgeous and radiant.

The End.

I don’t want to feel calm when I have no money!

| Mairead

It’s a beautiful day outside as I write. In the past it was for days like this, that I waited to feel content. Seems strange now but its the truth for me.

At that time I didn’t know but I was getting up and checking the weather and then deciding how I would feel on a given day. I didn’t even know that I had a choice. If I did, why would I ever choose to feel less than content? (Funny enough sometimes I would choose to feel miserable.)

Of course I’m simplifying it by saying it was just the weather that I checked. There were lots of checks! What do you check? Just this morning a friend told me that he always felt down if the cash flow wasn’t good. So I guess he checked how much money he had and if it was enough (whatever that was on the day) he could choose to feel well otherwise he chose to feel down. At the time it struck me that his cash flow was more important to him than his state of mind. Money was his priority; how he felt, had to be decided on afterwards. This is not unusual, lots of people do it, but is it useful?

Surely our state of mind is more important than money or the weather or the other stuff we can’t change? I can change my state of mind. I can choose the state I want for this moment. You can too. Consider a moment in time when the weather was fine and you were feeling content/calm/peaceful/glad/joyful (choose any), take a deep breath and enjoy. If you’ve chosen to follow those instructions then you’ve chosen your state of mind. Would you like to consider a time (real or imagined) when you had enough money and you’re feeling content/calm/peaceful/glad/joyful or whatever. Again, take a deep breath and enjoy.

When you do this every day some things become clear. For me – it wasn’t my circumstances that made me happy/sad/glad. I realised it is possible to separate my circumstances from my state of mind.

Let’s play around with that concept with imagination: On a really wet day, for a moment add in happy; with nothing in your purse, for a moment add in calm; your boss/mother/spouse is in front of you pointing out your faults, for a moment add in peaceful. And for that moment it works. So maybe it could work for every moment. (Remember earlier I mentioned that sometimes I used to choose to feel miserable? Did you notice at any point during this playing that you thought “but, I don’t want to feel calm when I’ve no money” or “I can’t feel peaceful when ….etc”, if you did then you’re choosing to feel not-calm, not-peaceful, so we understand each other?)

It’s simple isn’t it? Well it is, but it’s not easy! It’s not a quick fix, it’s a life’s work, but it is possible.

Do it soon, it could be the start of your life’s work!

A message for all those who have teenage daughters.

| Mairead

We went to see Juno last week.
It’s a story about a 16 year-old girl, Juno, who gets pregnant, and her journey through the pregnancy and birth and beyond. What’s different about this version of an old story is the comedy, “Yeah, I’m a legend. You know, they call me the cautionary whale.”

It begins with Juno drinking a quart of Sunny D in preparation for her 3rd pregnancy test of the day. All the tests were performed on site in the ‘restroom’ of a grocery shop, with a lot of input from the shopkeeper. “You better pay for that pee-stick when you’re done with it. Don’t think it’s yours just because you marked it with your urine!”

Juno is different. She doesn’t fit the norm and neither does the boy she picks to ‘experiment’ with. “As far as boyfriends go, Paulie Bleeker is totally boss. He is the cheese to my macaroni.”

I loved her Dad – there’s a scene where he and Juno’s step-mum are alone together having just been told by Juno that she’s pregnant. They’re in shock and the step-mum says something like “Did you see that coming when she said she had something to tell us?” and the Dad says “Yeah, but I was hoping she was expelled, or into hard drugs.”.
Please don’t tell my offspring but I’ve had thoughts like these. Where the one thing you feared was true became the worst possible outcome and you choose a “better” option. But if sanity had been around on that day there’s no way you’d ever, ever want that “better” option.

It’s a love story. A geeky looking boy, Paulie, in the light of Juno’s love becomes a really lovely guy who, although he wears awful running shorts, steps up to supports Juno when she needs him. “Juno: I think I’m, like, in love with you. Paulie: You mean as friends? Juno: No, I mean, like, for real. ‘Cause you’re, like, the coolest person I’ve ever met, and you don’t even have to try, you know… Paulie: I try really hard, actually. ”

This is a movie with a message for all those who have teenage daughters – they’ll be fine. And, for all those who have teenage sons – they’ll be fine. And for all those who are teenagers – you are fine. And for all those who were teenagers – it turned out fine, didn’t it?

Talking to a friend last weekend as we walked in beautiful sunshine along a path called the Cliff Walk helped me see this. My friend and her husband had spent many sleepless nights wondering what they were going to do for their teenage daughter who was failing to succeed. And guess what? Now ten years later all is fine! It didn’t take ten years for it to be fine, but maybe it takes a long time before we look back. She’s successful in a way that the parents could not have foreseen.

Sometimes sleep is all you can do, because sleepless nights help no one!

Sometimes we get involved in the business of our ‘children’ when all they need is an interested observer with lots of money (not really!) and an ability to listen.

In the recent past as an adult I have begun to do the things that were too fearful to consider at the normal age. For instance, 2 years ago I learned to swim. Now, we’re not talking about the graceful art of gliding through the water. This was learning to be comfortable in water and move through that water anyway I could, except walking. I learned at my own pace, I pacing myself for about 10 years. I had got to the point of holding the bar and putting my face in the water. Letting go of that bar was impossible. If I let go of that bar then I would be lost, like Alice down the rabbit hole. I was holding tight to past experiences in water.

Like the time I went to swimming lessons in the next town and as a good girl put my face in the water when the instructor told me, but somehow the message to hold my breath never got through and I took in water. Then on school tour where I felt so comfortable with my friends that I jumped into the pool with them and couldn’t stop choking up water. And again when my children were small and we went to a water park and I decided it was time to be brave and risk the big slide. Halfway down I decided this wasn’t such a good idea and if there had been a way I would have jumped over the side rather than go into the water. There was no way, it ended with choking on water again.

But something about the water kept calling me back.

I was in the middle of swimming lessons again when I attended a great workshop. There’s an exercise on the last day about doing something you want to do in the next three months. My choice was swimming. Within three months I was floating with my hands off the bar and my feet off the ground, I had sourced a one-to-one swimming teacher and I had started my learning with purpose. And something I didn’t expect – I loved the water. When I was floating and eventually doing a crawl I felt like I was flying.

Now I’ve taken up singing lessons…..

As an adult I don’t even consider that someone will be pushing me to keep going because they think it’s important. Or that someone will be disappointed if I give up. I go at it at my own pace. At my own pace something else comes to play, and I play with that. The joy of the task at hand is lovely.

Getting a good leaving cert, or a distinction in music exams, or a championship medal are types of success, but there are many more, which one will you be thinking about in your death bed?
Sometimes our kids mistake our interest in getting the best for them as the goal they must achieve, as the one way they must go, as the only option to be in this world.
Sometimes we mistake our experience as the truth, the only truth, the only way. Sometimes the truth is invisible to us and only visible to those who are involved and have to step up to meet it.

Ok, maybe learning to swim did take me a long time, but I had the time…… What’s the hurry?